


Jilt

by GeorgeCantWrite



Series: Pietro and Bucky shorts [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Conflicted Pietro Maximoff, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Sad Clint Barton, Short, Willing Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgeCantWrite/pseuds/GeorgeCantWrite
Summary: Pietro loved Clint for as long as they had known each other. It didn't mean it was right.





	Jilt

Pietro was wearing Clint's infamous purple jumper, the sign that spelt 'Hawkeye' printed across the chest. It was Pietro's favourite jumper he often stole. It had been taken from Clint so many times that Clint didn't bother to try and take it back.

Clint murmured something quietly in his ear as he slipped an arm around Pietro's waist, then his mouth was pressed against Pietro's head and his already fast heart went faster than he thought it could do. His face had reddened too, much to his displeasure and Clint's amusement. He kissed him again and then Pietro turned and kissed him properly, mouths pressed together firmly. It always took Clint by surprise when he did this, which always made it so fun.

Being with Clint was nice, they would fool around, pushing each other into the nearest room or cupboard and kiss each other senseless. Other times, they would play games, and Pietro's feet would be pressed into Clint's thigh, or Clint's head would be pressed into Pietro's side as, Pietro's arm ending up on Clint's chest. It was something they did, and something they enjoyed. Other times, they would argue, it would usually be a petty argument that never really held any meaning, and it always ended in one kissing the other.

Sometimes, being with Clint also meant learning sign language in several languages so that they could talk to each other and the others wouldn't be able to tell what they were saying. Of course, they had both learnt American and English sign language, but then Pietro had gone out and learnt Sokovian sign language and taught it to Clint. Pietro had felt like he had been sharing something special with Clint and it had been one of the best things they had done together. Whenever he had seen Clint's face light up when he would ask him something or say something to him in one of these sign languages made something swell up inside Pietro and made him feel better about himself and about whatever it was that he shared with Clint.

And other times, it was hell.

Other times, Clint would be gone for months at a time, coming back battered and bruised, bones broken and looking like he had taken on the Hulk about fifty times. Those times were hard, having to help Clint with his wounds, run him to medical and back; having to see him get surgery done. Sometimes things were just too hard and Pietro would find himself in one of Clint's nests, huddled in one of Clint's many purple jumpers, trying so hard not to cry as he had to deal with the thought that Clint would die.

Clint meant the world to him; he was the first person he had trusted after his sister. The amount of time it had taken to admit his feelings to Clint without being a dick about it had been tough; he had always teased Clint about something or other, whether it had been his age or how he was too slow. Those things hadn't really mattered to Pietro, he had loved Clint with all his heart, and that had been an achievement for Pietro.

"What you thinking about?" Clint asked him when he pulled away from him, lips slightly swollen and hair ruffled. Pietro smirked at him, kissing him again, whispering all the things he would do to him against his mouth. Clint laughed, that deep laugh that sent shivers down Pietro's spine.

They had been together for months, then the months had turned into a year and then it kept going.

Pietro had been so surprised it had lasted so long, had never wanted it to end. He was happy with Clint, was happy to wake up to the old man's face, be the first one he saw when he woke up, to be the first thing he heard in the morning once he had put his hearing aids in, smiling as Pietro would kiss his entire face, acting like an excited puppy, fully of bubbly energy that got Clint to get out of bed even without being tempted with coffee.

So why did Bucky Barnes have to come along and ruin things for them?

It had all been a chaotic mess; Steve had brought the man in, without warning and Tony had started yelling and Steve had done it right back. Natasha had looked around and looked like she was torn between stabbing Bucky or kissing him. Pietro would have voiced a joke that she might have had a thing going on with Bucky at some point, but didn't. He didn't want to because he didn't have a death wish.

And then he had noticed how terrified Bucky was. His hands were shaking and his back was stiff. So, Pietro had approached him.

It had both gone downhill and uphill from there.

"Hey." he said quietly, giving Bucky a smile. He looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. He backed away from him slightly, eyes darting around as the others continued to yell at each other.

It really wasn't going well.

"Need an escape?" Pietro asked and Bucky nodded and then the two were gone.

No-one had really noticed, except for Clint and Natasha. Neither assassin said anything about it.

Bucky and Pietro ended up on the roof of the Avengers Tower. The wind was a bit harsh and cold, but neither seemed to mind. "So, you're Bucky Barnes?"

Bucky smiled slightly. "When I'm on my good days." he said, making Pietro frown. "I was the Winter Soldier, sometimes my head slips up." he added, having caught Pietro's frown.

The other man nodded, finding that he didn't have anything good to say. It didn't seem to matter, since Bucky walked over to the edge, resting his forearms on the barrier. Pietro frowned again before he went and did the same, keeping a good distance between them so that Bucky wouldn't feel uncomfortable. The wind picked up, loud and strident. Bucky didn't seem to mind, except for when he rubbed at his left shoulder. He seemed to have caught Pietro staring.

"It's where the metal and flesh connect. Sometimes aches when the weather is particularly shit. It comes and goes," he said and pulled his glove off to show Pietro his metal fingers. He surprised Pietro when he held out his hand and let Pietro look at the minute plates.

And maybe that was where it began.

Bucky didn't walk around the Tower for a while. No, instead he had stayed in his room with Steve for about two weeks. It had been weird, like he wasn't there even though everyone knew he was.

Pietro tried not to think about it. So when he saw Clint, he would latch onto him. Clint found it funny by the looks of it and didn't question it. He would sit next to Clint and cling onto his arm, head pressed against Clint's shoulder. No-one really asked why Pietro was suddenly more touchy-feely with Clint.

 

* * *

 

 

"What are you thinking?" Clint asked one night. Pietro was curled up against Clint's side, fingers splayed over Clint's bare chest. He nudged Pietro slightly when he didn't respond. "Pietro?"

"I do not know," he said honestly. He looked up at Clint, eyes tired and somehow the brightest things Clint had ever seen. "I ... I think I am worried about Barnes?"

"Yeah, me too," Clint said, rubbing a calloused hand on Pietro's arm. "But he's gonna be fine, or as fine as any of us could be these days."

Pietro let out a breath of laugh. "Did you know that when the weather is shit, it hurts his arm?"

"I didn't know that." Clint said, biting back a yawn. Pietro held onto him, burying his face in Clint's side, squeezing his eyes shut. Clint tapped his arm and Pietro reached up and removed the hearing aids from Clint's ears.

It took a while for Pietro to go to sleep, Clint had relaxed into him easy enough, mouth slightly agape as soft snores escaping him. When Pietro did fall asleep, he woke up not too long later. The nightmare had been weird, all distorted faces and deaths.

Clint was still sound asleep, oblivious to Pietro's sweaty, disorientated state. He sat up, easing himself away from Clint, trying not to wake him up. Thankfully, Clint didn't wake. He let out a sigh of relief, putting the covers back over Clint before he left, noting how Clint curled up into the space he had been in, looking like he was missing him. Pietro felt guilt settle in his stomach and he wasn't too sure why. He grabbed the Hawkeye jumper and pulled it on, feeling a calming comfort from it.

He got to the communal area, where the kitchen was and grabbed some food and sat on the table, feeling his body shaking from the aftermath of the nightmare. He pressed the tips of his fingers to his forehead in a way Clint did to him whenever he woke him from a nightmare, dragging them down his forehead slowly. The shaking didn't necessarily stop, but it did ease a little.

"What's wrong?"

Pietro flinched, head whipping around to see Bucky making his way over. He didn't comment on Pietro's reaction, instead walked over to the fridge and grabbed some chocolate. Pietro raised his eyebrow slightly and Bucky offered a smile.

"Steve keeps getting on at me for eating chocolate. So I keep stealing it," he offered as an explanation. "Also helps with nightmares." he added and held out a piece. Pietro smiled tiredly, muttering a quiet _'_ _Спасибо,'_ as he accepted the piece. "You Russian?" Bucky asked, looking at him weirdly.

Pietro made a see-saw with his hand. "Sokovian." he said and Bucky nodded. "Thanks," he said, waving the remaining part of the chocolate before he got off the table and made to walk out of the kitchen.

"Steve says," Bucky began, then stopped and cleared his throat. Pietro stopped and turned around, looking at him from under the hood, pushing it back slightly. "he says that I should talk to more people. But they're all assholes. You - you seem pretty tolerable?"

"What makes you think I am not an asshole?"

Bucky shrugged again, and looked like he was beginning to regret opening his mouth. "I dunno. You got me away when I first got here. Steve threw me into the mix which didn't go down too well."

Pietro blinked and smiled, scratching at his eyebrow. "Sure. Tomorrow, I'm going to be in the gym, working on my reactions and speed. After, we can hang out? Play video games and annoy Clint?" he suggested and Bucky smiled and nodded.

"Sounds like a plan." Bucky said and Pietro winked at him before he had vanished and Bucky was rubbing at his reddening neck.

 

* * *

 

 

And then they started to hang out a lot, whether it was playing games, in the gym or even when it came to dinner. Pietro still spent time with the others, but now he was spending time with Bucky too.

They saw the looks Steve gave them, whenever they were together. Steve always looked conflicted. Neither of them knew why and usually didn't question it. They narrowed it down to Steve being jealous of them, but then they thought of that as a stupid explanation.

Clint didn't seem to mind. He found it funny that they became friends. He suggested games for them to play and even helped out every so often when they practiced together in the gym.

It was fun.

"Hey," Bucky said when Pietro entered the gym, tossing over a ball. It was thrown back at his face, almost hitting him but he caught it. Bucky heard Pietro curse in a mixture of Sokovian and Russian from across the area before he was leaning against Bucky's metal shoulder, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What you smiling for?"

"Nothing," Pietro said, but he was still smiling. Bucky rolled his eyes and pushed him away. "Clint was trying to be funny last night," he supplied and Bucky snorted, stretching as they prepared to spar against each other.

"Should I be worried?" Bucky asked casually and Pietro raised an eyebrow at him.

"You have nothing to worry about." he told him and Bucky smirked, holding up his arms, hands fisted.

And so they sparred together.

It was quick paced, tough and the only sounds were their breathing and scuffling of their feet. They would catch each other's eye, grinning before trying to push each other to the ground. It wasn't long before Pietro was pinned against the mat, Bucky above him firmly, arms pressed to the mat by Bucky's knees. He stared up at Bucky, chest heaving as their eyes locked. Bucky grinned at him and Pietro was grinning back.

Bucky tilted his head slightly and then he was kissing Pietro and Pietro was kissing back and couldn't remember right from wrong. He pulled away from Pietro after what must have been barely a second, and looked like he regretted it, but didn't at the same time.

"Shit." Pietro said and pushed Bucky off him. Before Bucky could react or stop him, Pietro had vanished from sight.

Pietro ran and ran, moving blindly. It was just his luck that Clint caught him. "What's got you going round the Tower like this?" he asked, smiling at him. Pietro tried to talk, but his voice wouldn't work. "Pietro?"

"Bucky kissed me." he blurted out and Clint tensed. He saw it happen. He saw how Clint closed in on himself and the guilt almost tore Pietro in half.

"Did you -?"

Pietro nodded, knowing what Clint was going to say. Clint backed away from him, lower lip caught between his teeth. He let out a choked laugh, looking like he was about to cry. Pietro looked down, feeling the disappointment from Clint.

"Alright then." Clint said with a shake of his head. "If you're gonna try and fix this, then maybe talk to him and then we can talk. But I don't know." he sighed. "If you don't come back to me, then I guess it's over. If that happens, then I hope you'll be happy with Bucky."

"I'm sorry," Pietro whispered, wishing he could hug Clint and make it all go away. But he couldn't.

 

* * *

 

It had been a week, maybe ore, but Pietro wasn't counting.

(Yes he was.)

He hadn't spoken to anyone during that time. He didn't _want_ to talk to anyone. He wanted to sleep. So he spent most of his time hidden in his bed under the sheets. Until, of course, Wanda forced him out to go and talk to Bucky. He didn't want to talk to Bucky.

(Yes he did.)

So when Bucky bumped into him - totally not courtesy of Natasha - they had to talk about what happened.

"I didn't know," Bucky said and Pietro looked at him. "About you and Clint. I never knew. Never really realised."

"It is fine." Pietro said even though it still hurt to think that Clint wouldn't be with him. He wanted to be with Bucky, but he wanted to be with Clint. Or did he just used to? Was he feeling nostalgic?

"I'm still sorry for fucking up." Bucky said and Pietro let out a laugh, felt it catch uneasily in his throat.

"It is my fault," he said, unable to look Bucky in the face. "Everything is, really."

Bucky shook his head, pulling Pietro into a hug. "Shall we just say we both fucked up?"

He let out another laugh, hiding his face in Bucky's neck, nodding.

"And ... and if things calm down, would you like to try -?" he stopped talking, unable to get the words out.

"Maybe." Pietro said honestly, feeling like he was sick with himself for saying that but kind of glad he got it out of him.

Maybe they would, maybe they wouldn't. Maybe if Clint hadn't been what Pietro had loved in the first place. Maybe if he had waited and met Bucky, none of it would have happened.

Pietro still kept Clint's purple jumper, even after he and Bucky had gotten together. It was a maybe not so gentle reminder, but it was a part of his home that neither could take from him.


End file.
